


The Disappointment Act

by VintageManniqueen



Category: Bomb Girls
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-14
Updated: 2013-02-14
Packaged: 2017-11-29 07:11:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/684260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VintageManniqueen/pseuds/VintageManniqueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A disappointment act: a Vaudeville term meaning a replacement act for a better performance that was cancelled. Gladys has a trick up her sleeve to relieve Betty's sadness sometime immediately before the start of season 2.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Disappointment Act

**Author's Note:**

> This was written as a response to a prompt submitted to me by lovecatcadillac; "Betty and Gladys each tell each other something they’ve never told anyone before."
> 
>  
> 
> I don't own anything associated with Bomb Girls. =D

It was a calm night, too boring of a night: a Tuesday evening too dull for clothes washing or a card game. Or maybe it was simply Betty who was too lethargic to lift a finger or notice the life that carried on around her. She waited and listened for at least an hour to hear Kate's footsteps approach her door, but no such luck. She'd rather hoped for a visit from Vera, at the very least. Why, she didn't know, as she would have turned her away at the door without so much as a smoke. Alone and imagining the opportunity to send away a guest, Betty was awakened from her thoughts and pulled from her bed by a real knock at her door.

 "Who's-" she began as the door burst open, bringing with it the chill of outside and Gladys in a coat that looked like it might still be alive.

 "Well, damn. What's the big idea?" Betty sulked back to her bed. "I got up for nothing."

 "Oh, no. Do stay standing," Gladys sing-songed with a gleam in her eye. Betty knew that sparkle, and she didn't much like it. It meant she had to leave her dusty domicile and face the unknown perils of Gladys's schemes. She would take dust over the unknown any day.

 "If it involves soldiers, theft, or that ridiculous coat, I'm not interested." She started to reach for her lighter, but thought better of it. She couldn't have Gladys thinking she was feeling spry.

 And there was a smile that made Betty uneasy.

 "It involves liquor and breasts," Gladys stated gleefully.

 Betty's eyebrow shot up and she felt Gladys's cheery, yet mischievous disposition creeping into her skin. "You've got my attention, Officer."

 The bright white of Gladys's perfect teeth broke through meticulously-shaped lips in a smile so _suggestive_ that it made Betty blush. The bed gave a loud squeak as Gladys bounced onto it ungracefully, and she turned her smile to Betty.

 At a momentary loss for words, Betty chuckled and tried to disguise the red creeping across her face as joy rather than embarrassment. "Well," she finally stammered. "What is it? What have you done? Why do you look like that cat who ate the canary?" That smile made _Betty_ feel like the canary.

 "You've looked so down all day and I _must_ get you out of this boarding house. I cannot look at another frown. And if you're frowning over one woman," she said with a gesture of her eyes toward Kate's photograph tucked into the mirror, "I'd like to have you fawning over several."

 Now, she couldn't hide the blush. "W- What! What are you on about, Witham? Have you finally lost all of your sense, or just the last of the good sense?" She rung her hands and for the first time since primary school, she wanted to bite her nails.

 Gladys leaned closer to her and half-whispered a few inches from her face. "Let's go to a burlesque show."

  _Don't bite. Don't bite._ "I didn't take you for the type to be seen somewhere like that."

 "Oh, that's just it, Betts." She rose and pulled Betty up with her, and yanked her toward her body. "No one you see at a burlesque show is ever going to tell a soul where they saw you." She winked and Betty swore she could see the shine in her eyes get brighter.

 "Well, what's your big plan?" Betty asked, as Gladys twirled her by the hand.

 Gladys twirled herself into Betty and then passed her, to the drawer where Betty kept bottles of liquor in close proximity to her underwear. "Oh, I don't have one. But I do know of a place on Queen Street where we can find a show." She fished noisily through the drawer and pulled out a decorative brassiere. She placed it over her own breasts, and she turned to face the blonde with a ridiculous bumping motion in her hips.

 "Maybe we'll catch Miss Gypsy Rose Lee," She teased, tossing the bra into a corner.

 Betty's lips curled up at one corner and she crossed her arms over her chest while Gladys raised a bottle. "Say, Princess. Why do you know so much about girlie shows?"

 "Well, a girl's gotta have a back up plan if Hollywood's a bust."

 Betty grinned and tilted her head to the side. "You sure are full of surprises."

 Gladys wrapped her hands around Betty's arm and she tugged her toward the door. "I can appreciate a lovely woman and a comedy show," she said with a hint of mischief that Betty admired.

 "Why leave the house if you can watch yourself in the mirror, then? Isn't that what you do for fun any other time?"

 Gladys gave her a little shove and rolled her eyes. "Knock it off, Betts! Though I do think you just called me 'lovely.'"

 Betty smirked. "You were the one talking about your taste in women. You might have caught me out on a limb here, but I'm assuming you think pretty highly of yourself."

 Gladys let go of her arm and breezed past her to the door. "Did you ever notice the word 'ass' tucked inside the word 'assume'?"

 Betty grew warmer to the whole idea with each word to pass between Gladys's lips. "You're a little too adventurous, did you know that?"

 Gladys flopped onto the bed and sighed dramatically. "Oh, Betts. If I could, I'd stay out all night and wake up in New York."

 Betty shuffled her night clothes over her head and reached for the brassiere that Gladys had tossed.

 "I suppose I've caught the early show," Gladys said, catching an eyeful of Betty's ample chest.

 Betty shook her head while she fastened her bra. "Boy, I could never do that. I don't have the guts."

 "Well, you've certainly got the stage props," Gladys giggled.

 "Oh, come off it!" Betty huffed, cheeks glowing. "I'm cutting you off 'til we get to the theater."

 "I guess me not having them is the one thing that can solidly keep me from ever turning to it," Gladys said listlessly.

 "Well, you're lucky that you'll never have to worry about it."

 "What if I wanted to?"

 Betty eyed her suspiciously. "What's got you so caught up in the business?"

 "If you think about it, it's sort of glamorous in its own way. It's so freeing and _thrilling_." She lowered her voice and raised her eyes to meet Betty's. "Everyone tells us it's wrong but it looks like it feels so right! Can you imagine how exciting it all must feel? Making money and a name for yourself with just your _looks_ and a flair for drama? There must be some sense of power to it or all of those women wouldn't do it."

 Betty thought of Chet, and the desperate situation Kate had been in upon her last visit. She thought of the situations she'd been in when she had stepped in front of that camera, herself. "I don't know," she said, buttoning her dress in the mirror. "Maybe they don't have anywhere else to turn."

 "Phhht," Gladys retaliated. "There is certainly an allure to it. You've got to have some kind of drive to do get up on stage and captivate and audience like that."

  _Yeah, the drive to get out of a bad place, no matter what it takes_ , Betty thought.

 "You make it sound like you're some kind of regular over there. What took a girl like you to a place like that?"

 Gladys smiled fondly. "I once followed my older brother, Laurence, all the way to the theater. By the time he realized I'd tailed him, he just snuck me in and told me I'd earned my right to be there." Her fingers wrapped around the bauble on her necklace. "I was so shocked I nearly cried. But then, I decided they were all so marvelous that I've been secretly taken with it ever since."

 Betty cleared her throat subconsciously and moved her hands to her hair. "I appreciate tits as much as the next man, but sometimes I feel like I'm contributing to some poor girl's misery."

 "Well, if you feel that she's running from something, or, _toward_ something better," Gladys reasoned, "Then your ticket money is putting her salary in her pocket and helping her reach that."

 "I uh, I…. Um." Betty trailed off and cleared her throat loudly.

 Gladys turned her attention to the blonde. "What did you say?"

 Ahem. Ahem. "I, uh, didn't say anything," Betty muttered.

 It was Gladys's turn to arch an eyebrow. "Well, out with it."

 Betty wasn't sure why she felt compelled to tell Gladys what she had done. She had never told a soul, not even Kate, whom she really should have told to comfort her through her own debacle. Before she could stop herself, the words tumbled out of her lips. "I used to do a little posing. You know, like, photographs."

 Gladys gasped and bolted upright. "Betty! Oh, how… Spectacular! Why did you never tell me? Have you got any of the photos? Do you know where they were published? When did you-"

 "I'm not proud," Betty said quickly and quietly. She sucked a deep breath in through her nose. "I needed the money."

 Gladys crossed the room to her in two long strides. "How can you tell me, Betty McRae, that it isn't the most exhilarating feeling for me to tell you that I would pay for a picture of you? Can you imagine how many soldiers feel like their hearts belong to you?"

 Betty shied away from her and fiddled with the buttons of her coat. "I'd rather not think about it, Princess. I shouldn't have mentioned it. It makes me feel better to make an honest living at the factory."

 Gladys caught Betty's wrists in her hands gently. "Can you imagine how many people go to bed each night thinking that you're the most lovely creature in the world? How many men die with your smile in their hearts?"

 "Yeah, well, that's alright, I guess." Betty didn't think she was anything to make a big fuss about, but if her bust could get her some cash, she would do it in a pinch.

 "I think you're beautiful, Betty McRae, and if I had your picture, I'd frame it with Rita on my dresser."

 Betty looked at her sideways. "You'd have a lot of explaining to get to when Daddy Warbucks saw a girlie picture on your bureau."

 Gladys grinned and brought Betty's hand to her face so she could press its coolness to her hot cheek. "My room is ornamented with pictures of beautiful women whom I admire. You'd fit right in," she said, beaming.

 Betty swallowed and gently withdrew her hand. "Well, that's swell and all, but…"

 Gladys lifted Betty's purse from the hook by the door and slung it at the blonde. "Oh, come on, Betts. The girls at this theater are big stars living their dreams. It'll be fun and you could use a little fun."

 "I think you're all the fun I need to be around, Princess." She placed her hat atop her curls. "You think we'll look, well, I don't know…"

 Gladys grinned and pulled her out the door. "No one will be looking at _us_."

 


End file.
